Self Conclusion
by NoPleaseStayHere
Summary: Betty Cooper is sitting at the edge of a cliff, thinking about jumping, when Jughead Jones comes to do the same thing. Betty tries to talk him down. He gives her 48 hours to change his mind. Can they help each other?
1. Chapter 1

In between the towns of Riverdale and Greendale, just beyond Sweetwater River, is a bank of cliffs. The further you climb, the higher they get. There's even a fence to deter people from going to the top.

Betty had been coming here for months. She climbed under the fence, the setting sun and heavy mist sending a shiver down her spine. She slowly dropped down to the ground, scooting her legs over the edge. The dirt and gravel stuck to her clammy palms, but she barely noticed. She was here almost every day, the same thoughts racing through her mind - **j u m p**.

Betty sighed to herself and reached behind her back, feeling for a rock. She felt a flat, smooth stone in her palm. She felt the weight, tossing it in her palm before winding up and throwing it with all her might over the precipice.

She heard footsteps against gravel in the distance, getting louder and louder with each passing moment. Her heart hammered in her chest as she scooted away from the edge of the cliff.

She was dusting the dirt from her jeans as she came face-to-face with Jughead Jones. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. He held her gaze for a moment before widening his eyes, trying to make her uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?" He blurted.

"Just looking at the view," Betty shrugged.

"What view? It's foggy as fuck." As if to make Jughead's point, fat drops of rain started to fall, making the stone darker where it landed. "I have definitive plans here and just because you're here doesn't mean I'm going to change them."

It took Betty a moment before she realized what he meant - he was here for the same reason as she, except he seemed set on following through with his plan.

He was dressed simply, jeans and a t-shirt with an S emblazoned on it, a jean jacket and a pair of converse. She realized, looking at him, that his usual beanie and suspenders were missing. Whenever she saw him in the halls, he was never without them.

"You're in my way, blondie."

"I'm not moving. Y-you can't jump." Betty steeled herself as best she could against the chilly, damp air. She needed to stand her ground just in case he did anything.

Jughead scoffed and rolled his eyes. She could see him eyeing the cliff behind her, the rocks, the mist and fog surrounding them.

"What do you care? You don't even know me." He said, looking her dead in the eye. It was a challenge.

"I know, but I'd like to change that. Give me a chance to change that?" Betty cocked an eyebrow.

Jughead shook his head. "Just like that, huh? Are you trying to take on a project? You'll walk down the cliffs until we're on solid ground and turn tail and run just like everyone else. Just let me get this over with."

"No, it's not like that. I used to see you with Archie. I... I heard about your dad. I'd truly like to get to know you, Jughead."

Jughead stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I mean, won't you miss..." She trailed off. How was she supposed to list reasons why he should stay alive when moments before he arrived, she was contemplating the same thing he was about to do? "Won't you miss milkshakes and french fries and sunrises? That feeling you get when you watch a new movie for the first time and you just feel how great it is deep in your soul? When you wake up from an amazing night's sleep? Biting into a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie?"

"Wow," Jughead laughed. It was a humorless, empty sound. "You make it sound so easy to be alive, Betty, but let me save you the trouble - I'm already dead inside. None of those things are worth staying for."

Betty bit her lip. She couldn't let this happen. "Trust me, I know how badly you want to do this. But... but what if instead of jumping, you stay with me. Stay here with me, we won't go our separate ways once we walk down to solid ground."

"What do you mean?" Jughead's eyebrows knit in conclusion.

"My family's gone for the weekend. Come and stay with me and I'll prove to you why it's not worth doing this." What the hell was she saying? How was she going to prove it to him?

"You make it sound so easy. It's not like I'll spend a few hours with you and I'll be cured." Jughead shoved his hands deeper into his jean pockets. The rain was picking up, making him wish more than anything he hadn't left his hat at home.

"I know you won't be cured. But, if we can get you to re-think this, there's hope. We can get help. Get-get you help." Betty dug at the gravel with the toe of her shoe. She only looked down for a second - her eyes snapped back to Jughead as soon as he made the slightest of movements. "Plus, it'll be for more than a few hours. Give me a few days."

Jughead sighed. "Look, this really isn't -"

"Give me seventy-two hours, Jughead."

He snorted. "Twenty-four."

"Sixty."

"Look, I could stand here and try and convince you, or you could come home with me and we could get warm. Give me forty-eight hours, Jughead."

"Okay, fine, I'll play along. I'll give you forty-eight hours to try and convince me, but Christ, you don't know what you're getting yourself into. I'll come back and fucking fling myself off this cliff, and -"

Betty steeled herself against the rain, pounding down against them now. She was facing Jughead, her back toward the edge of the cliff. Fog hung thickly around them.

"Why are you doing this, anyway? Why do you care? You could pretend you were never up here."

"Because I know what you're going through." Betty crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "Minutes before you got here, I was going to jump, too."

Jughead's hardened exterior softened, his tight-knit eyebrows and permanent frown changing into something almost sympathetic. He didn't say a word.

She extended her hand toward him, rain rolling down her cheek. "What do you say, Jughead? My house?"

He nodded ever so slightly, taking her hand and leading her away from the cliff's edge.


	2. Chapter 2

There was one stop Jughead demanded they made on the way to Betty's - they stopped at his Dad's old trailer to grab his beanie, which was now secured tightly on his head.

Betty shoved her house key in the lock, the two of them shivering from being soaked to the core.

"Promise me one thing," Betty started, teeth chattering. "You said forty-eight hours, so give me forty-eight hours, okay? If I leave the room, don't sneak out or anything. Promise me that."

Jughead stood in the foyer, pulling his wet sneakers off his feet. "Yeah, forty-eight hours, I got it."

"I'm serious. Don't pull any shit on me. Please."

"I won't. Scouts honor." Jughead held up three fingers.

Betty gave him a cautious smile, then pulled off her damp sweater. "Give me your clothes, I'll throw them in the dryer."

Jughead cocked an eyebrow at her, incredulous.

Betty rolled her eyes. "Okay, wait here. I'll bring you something else."

She climbed the stairs quickly, closing the door to her bedroom as she stripped off her wet clothing and tossed them in the laundry basket beside her dresser. She pulled on yoga pants and an oversize hoodie, then grabbed her laundry basket and padded across the hall to her parents room.

She opened her dads dresser drawers searching for something to give to Jughead that wouldn't be five sizes too big. She settled on a pair of pajama pants and an old band t-shirt she'd never seen before, then turned and left the room.

When Betty didn't see Jughead standing where she had left him, panic rose in her chest.

She padded through the living room, past the dining room. Nothing.

Fuck, she thought. She continued into the kitchen, where every cupboard was wide open. He has half hidden in the fridge, his head bobbing up and down.

She cleared her throat. "You scared the shit out of me."

Jughead stood straight up, his cheeks ballooning like a chipmunks. "What?" He mumbled through a full mouth.

"You weren't in the hall and I thought…" She trailed off.

"Forty-eight hours," Jughead said, swallowing whatever he had in his mouth.

Betty threw the clean clothes toward Jughead, which he caught in his hand.

"Bring me your damp stuff and I'll throw them in the washer with mine," Betty said, giving him some privacy.

A few moments later, as Betty stood in the living room wringing her hands together, Jughead padded into the room with the laundry basket against his hip, clad in Hal Cooper's pajama pants and top, a turkey leg between his teeth.

Betty stared at him incredulously.

"What? I eat when I'm sad."

"Aren't you always eating?"

"I'm always sad," Jughead countered.

Betty didn't say anything for a moment. "I didn't even know we had left over turkey."

"You don't anymore," Jughead smirked with a full mouth.

Betty ignored him. "I'm going to put this stuff in the washer, stay here, okay?"

"You don't have to tell me to 'stay here' every time you leave the room or this is going to be a very long two days."

"Fine. I'll be right back," Betty murmured as she strolled away.

Jughead let his shoulders drop as he sat on the couch, taking a bite off the turkey leg. What the hell was he doing here?

Betty padded back into the room quietly, her head down. She sat next to Jughead as he pulled the last of the meat off the bone. She ran her palms against the fabric of her pants.

"So what now?" Jughead started, swallowing what was left in his mouth. "Are we going to give each other pedicures and braid each others hair?"

Betty rolled her eyes. She really hadn't thought this far ahead.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" She said slowly.

Jughead scoffed. "We were friends until the 7th grade. We've been in the same school all our lives. What exactly would you like me to tell you?"

Betty steeled herself against his words. "You could tell me why you want to kill yourself."

Jughead cocked his eyebrow. "You first."

Betty stared at him.

"Not so easy, is it?"

"No," She said quietly.

Jughead sat back against the couch, his arms folded against his chest.

Betty sighed. "Look, you agreed to try. You're here for a reason. Please?"

Jughead nodded. "Alright," He said quietly. "Maybe start off a little bit lighter though?"

"Why don't I grab us some drinks and then we can go to my room?"

Jughead cocked his eyebrow.

"It's just where I feel most comfortable."

Betty disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and came back with two cans of coke. The two of them walked wordlessly up the stairs and into Betty's room.

"Alright," Betty said as she closed her bedroom door. She grabbed two pillows and handed one, as well as one can of coke, to Jughead. She tossed her pillow on the ground and sat cross-legged on top of it, then patted the ground across from her.

Jughead sighed and sat down.

"Why don't we play 21 Questions? No question off limits."

"Okay," Jughead answered, his tone clipped.

"What's your favorite movie?"

"I thought you said we were going to start off with easy subjects?"

Betty stared incredulously at Jughead, a smile playing on her lips. "What? That is an easy subject…"

"Who on earth has _one_ favorite movie? Can you narrow it down to decade or genre?"

The smile didn't leave Betty's face. He was finally showing some of his true self. "Okay, how about your favorite… Robert De Niro movie?"

Jughead opened his mouth, then closed it once more. "Taxi Driver or Heat. I can't decide."

Betty searched Jughead's face. It absolutely lit up when he talked about movies.

"Your turn to ask something," She prompted.

"If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

"Pizza, I guess."

"Pizza you _guess_?" Jughead replied disbelievingly. "What do you mean, you guess?"

"I-I can't really imagine eating one food for the rest of my life, Jughead, so _I guess_ it would be pizza."

Jughead sighed.

"Alright," Betty said, thinking. "What's one song that's totally a guilty-pleasure song? Like, you're not exactly embarrassed by it, but if someone looked through your music library, it would stick out like a sore thumb?"

"Walking In Memphis by Marc Cohn… or King Of Wishful Thinking by Go West. I'm a sucker for the Pretty Woman soundtrack."

Betty's mouth hung open slightly, a smile slowly spreading back across her face. "You are not!" She smiled.

Jughead nodded. "I am. I love 80′s music."

"I love both those songs, by the way."

Jughead gave her a small smile. "Am I allowed to ask the same question?"

Betty shrugged and returned his smile. "Sure, if that's what you want to know."

Jughead nodded.

"Breakfast At Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something. I just… it gets stuck in my head all the time. I love it."

"I've never heard it."

"Everybody's heard it! You just don't know you've heard it. I'll play it for you when we're done." Betty thought for a second. "Okay, what's one movie that everybody seems to love but you just don't get the hype?"

"Grease." He said immediately. "I just don't get it. She completely changes herself at the end and that's how she gets him. That, or Citizen Kane. I just.. fell asleep. It's a classic, sure, but there are much better classics."

"Your turn."

"Same question."

"You can't keep stealing my questions, Jughead!"

"Last one, I'm just curious."

Betty sighed. "Sleeping Beauty?" She posed it as a question. "There's just a whole lot of nothing going on! I mean, Beauty and the Beast, Mulan, now those are some great Disney movies."

Jughead couldn't help but smirk.

"What!" Betty protested. "You can't make fun of my answer."

"No judgement," Jughead promised.

"Why did you and Archie stop hanging out?" Betty asked quietly.

Jughead spread his legs out in front of him. The smile slipped off his face. "He bailed on me a lot. Like he was tired of being my friend but didn't have the heart to tell me. This summer we were supposed to go on a road trip, y'know, spend more time together, catch up. Try and save our friendship- we'd been best friends since birth. But he blew me off for that, too, never apologized or gave me an explanation or even a second glance at school."

"I'm sorry."

Jughead shrugged. Then, after a moment, "Why do you like him?" He took a long gulp of coke.

Betty blushed. "What do you mean? I - how did you?"

Jughead didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow. "He was my best friend, Betty."

She sighed. "I liked him, I did. I really did. But after that dance, he told me he didn't see me the same way, so I made myself stop seeing him like that - easier said than done, but it's working. I don't have those feelings for him anymore." Betty looked at her carpet, at Jughead's socked feet, anywhere but his eyes. "First crush?" She murmured toward the ground.

He held her eyes for a moment before he spoke. "Can we pick this back up in a minute? I could really use a shower." Jughead sighed as he stood.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll show you where the towels are."

* * *

Jughead's hair left water droplets on the light carpet between the bathroom and Betty's room. He had changed back into Hal's pajamas and t-shirt and he smiled to himself as he padded down the hall. He had his next question prepared.

He could hear her speaking to someone as he pushed her bedroom door open quietly.

"I know!" Betty laughed, her back towards her bedroom door. "How pathetic is he?" She laughed into her cellphone.

"Fuck you," Jughead spat, walking into Betty's bedroom. He grabbed his warm, freshly folded clothing from her bed and turned toward her door to leave.

"Shit," Betty murmured. She dropped her phone and raced after Jughead.


	3. Chapter 3

"Jughead, please!" Betty pleaded, racing down the stairs after him.

He was struggling to pull on his flannel over the shirt he had borrowed from Betty. "Fuck you! To think, I was going to open up to you! I should've known," Jughead spat as he reached the bottom of the staircase. He tucked his pants and t-shirt under his arm.

"Jughead, I know how it sounded. I swear, I wasn't talking about you," Betty's chin quivered.

"I was stupid enough to believe you once," Jughead said quietly. He slipped on his shoes quickly."See ya," He said, opening the front door.

"Jughead," Betty begged. Tears threatened to spill over. "We were talking about Archie, I swear. I promise!" Her voice cracked. "Please don't go."

Jughead stopped in his tracks, letting the door close towards him as he hesitated in the doorway.

"I wouldn't talk about you that way," Betty said quietly. "This isn't a joke to me."

Jughead turned slowly towards her. "Why would you say Archie's pathetic?"

Betty chewed her lip. "He tried to ask out all three Pussycat's one after another after Veronica turned him down. He tried to make it out like she was the one who was doing - well," Betty sighed. "Anyway, that's the gist of it. I'm sorry you overheard that. Please come upstairs, we can talk some more."

Jughead wordlessly closed the door and slipped off his shoes, following Betty up the stairs.

Betty sat on her bed as Jughead lingered in the doorway.

* * *

"Do you... want to keep asking questions? Since we didn't finish?"

Jughead laughed coldly. "Alright, sure, blondie. Tell me, why do you want to fix me so badly?" Clearly, his walls were back up.

"I don't want to _fix you_ , Jughead, you're not broken. I just don't want you to kill yourself."

"Well, you've got forty-five and a half hours to change my mind. Tick-tock." He stepped out of the doorway and crossed his legs, plopping himself on the floor.

"My question?"

Jughead raised an eyebrow.

"Why did you stop talking to me?"

"What are you talking about?" Jughead asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"In seventh grade. You just stopped talking to me and Kevin and Midge and you barely talked to Archie. Your Dad lost the house and you moved to the trailer park and Archie had to force you to talk to him. And when we tried to talk to you, you just - you refused."

"I didn't refuse, I-"

"You pushed us all away, Jughead!"

"I was twelve years old and my family was falling apart and we lost our house and moved into a trailer park. Plus, I was trying to help take care of Jellybean - it was all I could do to get up and go to school and do my homework, I - I couldn't deal with trying to explain everything to my friends." Jughead said angrily.

Betty nodded slowly. "Okay," She murmured.

"So why does the perfect girl next door want to kill herself?"

Betty blanched at his question.

"Well? You said no question off limits, right?"

"I'm not perfect. Don't call me perfect." Betty curled her fingers towards her palms, making tight fists.

"That's not an answer," Jughead murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

"My sister's pregnant, in high school, and the father of that baby has been murdered. My dad hardly ever comes home at night anymore. I confessed my feelings to someone who didn't feel the same way, and while that is all well and good, he is now trying to date my other best friend. I feel like I'm trying to hold my family together. Half the people I know think of me as perfect so I can't do anything wrong."

Betty took a deep breath. "And the other half bully me - Cheryl Blossom told me I was too fat to join cheerleading last year, Reggie Mantle asked if I was going to join the ranks of my sister and get pregnant in high school, random people I don't even know call our family crazy. There is so much shit going on in my head I can't take it. I don't even know when the last time is that I had a good day. So, no reason to stay is a good reason to go, right?"

"Won't you miss milkshakes and french fries and sunrises?" Jughead asked sarcastically, using Betty's reasoning against her.

"Yeah," Betty said, her voice thick with emotion. She took another deep breath, trying to suppress the feeling that she was about to cry. "You know, for me, it's more like this overwhelming feeling like I'm at a party where I don't know anybody, and I'm exhausted and bored and all I want to do is go home." A tear slipped down Betty's face.

She flicked it away. "Anyway. My turn - what's one thing you've never told anyone?"

"I'm homeless," Jughead murmured.

"What?" Betty asked incredulously.

"Well, I was homeless. My mom left with Jellybean a year or so ago and my dad started drinking more heavily and lost his job with Fred, and eventually I got tired of his shit. So I slept at the Drive-In. But, as you know," Jughead rolled his eyes. "The Drive-In got shut down. So I slept at school for a bit. A few weeks ago I moved back in with my dad, I didn't have any other choice. I've been there since he got arrested, but who knows how long I have til they realize I'm alone..."

"I-I'm really sorry Jughead."

He shrugged.

"Your turn," Betty prompted quietly.

"Same question," Jughead murmured, finally tearing his eyes away from the ceiling to look at her.

Betty didn't say a word, just uncurled her fists and showed Jughead what she had done.

Jughead slowly reached towards her upturned palms. He dropped his hands without touching her.

"I can relate."

"Yeah?" Betty said quietly.

Jughead rolled his long flannel sleeve up towards his elbow. An angry looking red mark was on his forearm. Another one, less fresh but just as painful-looking marked his wrist. "When my dad gets drunk, he gets angry. He takes it out on me a lot."

Betty touched them gently. "Jughead," Betty breathed.

Jughead pulled his arm away.

"I'm sorry," She murmured.

Jughead shook his head. "'S okay. There's lots more where they came from," He chuckled humorlessly. He stood up and pulled the t-shirt up so she could see the burns on his stomach and chest. Some were half-moon shapes, some were full circles, some big and some small.

"What are they from?"

"Cigarettes and cigars. The half circles are from when he threw them and they didn't quite make their mark." He let the shirt fall back in place.

"Okay," Betty said, standing up. "Why don't we stop the questions for a while? I could make a late dinner? Or order a pizza."

"Pizza sounds good."

"What do you like on your pizza?"

"Anything except pineapple."

"I thought you ate anything?" Betty cocked an eyebrow.

"I'd eat it, sure, but that doesn't mean I _like_ it." Jughead smirked.

"So what would you like on the pizza?"

"Pepperoni, green olives, onions and mushrooms is my favorite, but most people don't like ol-"

"No mushrooms and I'm sold." Betty smiled.

"Deal," Jughead murmured.

* * *

Jughead took the last bite of his crust and rubbed his stomach. "That was amazing. What now?"

"I have an idea," Betty smiled. "We both pick one of our favorite movies that we don't think the other has ever seen. What do you think?"

Jughead nodded. "Okay. Let me think." He crossed his legs. "Have you ever seen Murder by Death?"

Betty smirked. "No, I've never even heard of it."

"That's my pick."

"Have you ever seen An Affair to Remember?"

Jughead smiled. "I have, I love that movie."

"You do not," Betty laughed.

"I do! I have a soft spot for old romantic movies."

"Okay, what about The Notebook?"

"Oh, no, no, I said _old_ romantic movies. Not this new wave of Nicholas Sparks rom-com bullshit."

"So, you've never seen it?"

"No."

"Then that's my pick."

Jughead groaned.

* * *

The two of them were on Betty's bed, the only light in the room the glow from the TV. The end credits rolling for Murder by Death.

"What did you think?" Jughead asked, straightening his legs, stretching.

"It was really, really good actually. I love Alec Guinness. I didn't really understand the end, though." Betty admitted.

Jughead explained it, his whole face beaming.

"I'll have to watch it again," Betty laughed.

"We could watch it instead of The Notebook," Jughead laughed, cocking his eyebrow.

"No way," Betty smiled, scooting off the bed to put her well-used DVD into the machine.

By the time Allie and Noah were lying together in the street, Jughead was hooked. There was a smile playing on his lips.

Betty leaned back against her pillow, next to Jughead. Her eyelids felt heavy.

Jughead felt the warmth of her body against him, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen - as much as he was going to hate to admit it, he was really into the movie - plus, her bed was small, not much space for her to move without touching him.

As the end credits rolled, Jughead had to bite his lip to keep the tears from slipping out.

"Wow, okay, I was wrong. That was good." Jughead stared at the screen in front of him. "What, no 'I told you so'?" Jughead looked down at the tiny body next to him.

Betty was fast asleep, her head resting against his shoulder, even breaths making her shoulders rise and fall. She had a fistful of his shirt.

"Oh," Jughead breathed. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked.

He carefully, slowly, reached for the remote for the TV and turned it off, leaving them in complete darkness. He rested his head gently against hers, not wanting to wake her.

His heart was hammering in his chest, making it impossible for him to fall asleep. After a moment, he felt her stir, her hand reaching out against his abdomen to pull him closer to her. Her fingers lingered on his side as her breathing returned to the rhythmic pace it had been a moment ago.

Jughead felt all the feelings he had tried to pacify for years racing back up to the surface.


	4. Chapter 4

Jughead felt the cold air against his stomach as he stretched. It took him a moment to realize where he was - once he did, he looked at the empty space beside him.

He yawned, then sat up. Music was coming from downstairs. He scratched the back of his head and looked around for his beanie, swinging his legs off the bed. His beanie was nowhere to be seen. He groaned and padded out of the room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

As he padded quietly down the stairs, he could he the music getting louder and louder.

What the hell was she listening to?

Jughead ran his fingers through his hair as he yawned again, his socked feet making no noise as he spotted Betty in the kitchen.

She was facing away from him, bunny slippers on her feet, blue cotton panties clinging to her, legs bare. Her hair was damp, leaving wet impressions on her white tank top. Jughead's beanie was on her head.

She had a bowl under her arm and she was singing into a wooden spoon, batter dripping off the tip. There was coffee pouring slowly into the pot and bacon sizzling on the stove.

Betty swayed her hips along to the music. "-Just like animals..." She broke off to howl, tilting her head up towards the ceiling. "... baby, I'm preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive..." Betty continued, stirring the batter.

Jughead bit back a laugh, smiling to himself. He couldn't help but notice her hair had soaked through the material of her tank top - it was obvious there wasn't anything under her tank top, sending his mind racing.

She set the bowl on the counter and opened the cupboard above her and pulled out a bag of chocolate chips. She ripped open the bag and emptied half of it into the bowl.

The song changed to something Jughead recognized - one of his favorite songs, in fact.

"Bum-bum-bah-da-da," Betty sang along.

"Start spreadin' the news," Jughead sang in a baritone voice. "I'm leavin' today," He continued.

Betty practically jumped out of her skin. "Jesus, shit, Jughead!"

He chuckled and waltzed into the room. "Sorry. You're in a good mood for someone who wants to die." He wiggled his eyebrows and walked past her, opening cupboard doors, looking for a coffee mug.

"I was going to bring you breakfast in bed," Betty murmured, a smile playing on her lips. She reached past Jughead and grabbed two coffee mugs, her chest brushing his shoulder.

Jughead's breath hitched as Betty grazed him. "Here," She murmured, handing him a coffee mug.

Betty poured herself a mug of coffee, pouring milk and sugar into her cup before passing Jughead the coffee pot.

"You're up pretty early."

"I have trouble sleeping." Betty murmured. "I can always fall asleep just fine, but I wake up a lot. I have bad dreams."

"I sleep too much," Jughead yawned. "Sleeping is the best part of my day."

Betty smiled sadly at him as she poured the pancake batter into the skillet on the stove. She plated the bacon and took a bowl of fruit salad out of the fridge, telling Jughead to have a seat in the other room.

She set a plate with four pancakes in front of him a few minutes later and set her own plate on the table. Frank Sinatra was still playing loudly in the kitchen.

Jughead spooned fruit salad onto his plate with some bacon strips and drizzled syrup onto his pancake stack.

Betty watched him with a smile on her face as he cut into his pancakes with the side of his fork and shoved them in his mouth.

"What?" He said, covering his mouth as he chewed. "It's really good."

Betty smiled again. "I'm glad. I love cooking."

"No one's ever made me breakfast before,"Jughead murmured once he swallowed.

Betty took a sip of her coffee. "What?"

Jughead shrugged. "I mean, my mom poured cereal in a bowl for me or tossed me a banana when I was a kid, and I've ordered pancakes at Pop's but nobody has ever made me a hot, delicious breakfast like this." He shoved another bite in his mouth and washed it down with a swig of coffee.

"Oh..." Betty murmured. "Well, I'm glad you like it. Do you want more coffee?"

Jughead nodded. "I can get it though, finish your pancakes." He pushed his chair back. "You want more? Milk and sugar, right?"

Betty nodded, cutting into her pancake and shoving it into her mouth. She finished as Jughead returned with their coffees.

"I'm going to want my hat back, by the way," Jughead smirked.

Betty's cheeks flushed with heat. "Oh my god," She reached up, plucking the beanie off her head and dragging it down. "I forgot I was wearing it." She placed it on the table between them. "I'm sorry."

Jughead shook his head slowly. "It's okay." He smiled. "It looked good on you."

* * *

Jughead padded into Betty's room dressed in his clothes from yesterday. His hair was still wet, so his beanie was tucked under his elbow.

"Do you have a computer I could use?" He mumbled quietly.

Betty looked up from her journal. "Yeah, you can use my laptop." She jutted her chin toward her desk. "Why, what's up?"

"I just need to check on something," Jughead murmured. He opened the laptop on her desk and clicked on the power button. "What's your password?"

"Caramelkitten1, capital C."

Jughead nodded, smiling as he typed in the password, then turned back to Betty. She was reading a Jodi Picoult book.

"Is it okay if I put music on? Will that disturb you?"

Betty smiled and shook her head. "No, go ahead."

Jughead powered up YouTube and turned on a Manchester Orchestra song before he opened his email.

"I love this song," Betty murmured.

"You do?" Jughead asked, his eyebrows knitting together. "What about that pop crap you were listening to in the kitchen?"

Betty shrugged. "I like everything. I have more songs of theirs in my iTunes library." She gave him a small half smile.

Jughead nodded. He clicked through his emails before opening the one he was looking for.

 _ **Jug,**_

 _ **What was with that voicemail you left me? I tried to call you back but I guess Dad didn't pay the bill again.**_

 _ **School's going OK. I hate my teacher this year but I'm taking the creative writing class like you suggested. I love it.**_

 _ **I wanted to tell you something a while ago, but I never worked up the courage to tell you on the phone. Writing it is easier, so here goes: Billy hit me. I showed Mom the bruise, and she kicked him out right away, but she didn't want me to tell anyone. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm OK, but I thought you should know.**_

 _ **Email me soon, Jug, I love you.**_

 _ **JB**_

Jughead didn't realize tears were rolling down his face until Betty brushed one off his cheek.

"Are you okay?" She asked sadly. Her thumb brushed his jaw until his eyes focused on her. "Jughead?"

He nodded and bit his lip. "Can I be alone, please?" He murmured.

Betty nodded and stood up, faltering towards her door. "Hey, Jughead? You can talk to me if you need to." She said quietly.

"Thanks," He bit out.

She left him in the room as she padded down the hallway and sat on the top step of the staircase.

For a moment, it was silent. She couldn't hear the typing of keys or music playing or even a creak in the floorboards. Then, suddenly, she heard Jughead scream. It was muffled, like he was screaming into a pillow, but it sent shivers down her spine.

Her eyes pricked, tears pooling.

"Fuck!" She heard Jughead scream from her bedroom.

Betty stood back up and paced back to her bedroom. Jughead was sitting on her bedroom floor, his knees tucked up to his chest. Sobs were wracking his body.

"Jughead?" Betty murmured quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please talk to me."

Jughead didn't say anything, but his sobs seemed to subside. She sat down next to him and rubbed his back.

He looked up at her, his big blue eyes filled with tears. "I was supposed to protect her," He choked out.

"Who?"

"My little sister," He murmured. "I-I'm supposed to protect her, and I wasn't there and I'm a fucking failure just like they said." A fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks.

"What happened?"

Jughead motioned toward Betty's laptop, the page still open. She got up and quickly read through it. She turned, her face serious, and sat down next to Jughead once more.

"You didn't know, Jughead. You can't protect someone from something you don't know is happening."

Jughead shook his head. "She's the only reason I'm still here and I let her down."

"Shh," Betty murmured. She placed her hand against his cheek and rubbed her thumb against his tears. "It's not your fault."

Jughead clutched Betty's arm, his chin wavering. He collapsed against Betty's body, curling himself into her tiny lap.

She could feel warm tears against her thighs, his body shaking with the immensity of his sadness. She leaned forward, wrapping her body as best she could around him, trying to hold him together.

"I'm sorry, Jughead, it'll be okay," She murmured. She found his hand and gathered it in her own. "It'll be okay," She repeated.

They stayed on the floor until Jughead's tears subsided. Eventually, his breathing evened out and his chest started to rise and fall rhythmically.

It was his turn to fall asleep in Betty's arms.


	5. Chapter 5

Jughead slept fitfully in Betty's lap for twenty minutes before he asked to be alone again.

Betty busied herself in the kitchen baking fresh bread and cookies while Jughead napped. After an hour and a half, Betty decided to wake him up, bringing a mug of soup, slices of fresh bread and a plate full of cookies.

When Betty opened the door to her dark bedroom, Jughead was lying on her bed, facing her.

"Hi," She murmured quietly, placing the tray down next to the laptop on her desk.

"Hi," He answered quietly.

"I know you're still sad, but -"

Jughead sat up quickly and shook his head. "No, no, that's just it. I'm not sad any more, I'm pissed off." His voice rose.

"It'll be okay, Jug, I -"

"Will it? I-I am so angry that my face is burning up. My blood literally feels like it's boiling a-and I'm going to be engulfed and all that will be left of me is a pile of ashes and I don't know how to stop it!"

"Don't let it consume you, Jughead. I know, easier said than done, but you need to take back control. Get it out of you anyway you can - take a kick boxing class, or -" She couldn't help but notice the look of distaste on Jughead's face. "- Or," She said again pointedly. "Write it down in a journal like me, or write songs or poetry or start a podcast, do anything to get the anger and heat out of your body. Don't let it burn you up."

Jughead sighed.

Betty jutted her chin towards her laptop. "Go let it out," She murmured.

Jughead stood up and wandered to the desk, picking up the plate of cookies instead of the laptop. He popped one in his mouth and made a face Betty couldn't decipher.

"What? Are they okay? I just made them."

He shoved another in his mouth and chewed quickly before answering her. "These are the best goddamn cookies I've ever eaten."

Betty blushed slightly and laughed. "Slow down, there's more in the kitchen."

"What kind are they?" He asked as he shoved another in his mouth.

"Lemon crinkle cookies. The're one of my favorites, too. I've only made them once before, so..." She trailed off, not really knowing what she wanted to say. "I'm glad you like them, though."

Jughead sat back down next to Betty on the bed.

"It'll make you feel better if you pour yourself into something," Betty murmured quietly.

"I'm already starting to feel better. And actually, I-I'd like to get to know you better. Maybe finish our 21 Questions?"

Betty smiled. "Sure. I think you asked the last one, so I'll go."

Jughead nodded.

"When did you first start thinking about... about killing yourself?"

Jughead scratched the back of his neck. "Just like that, huh?"

"I just figured since we're running out of time we might as well ask the real questions." Heat crept into Betty's cheeks.

"Okay," Jughead nodded. "I really don't remember the first time I thought about it. It feels like it's always been there, creeping in the back of my mind, and it just got louder and louder until I couldn't ignore it anymore."

Betty chewed on her lip.

"With every shitty hand I got dealt throughout the years, it got worse. I've heard all my life that I'm a disappointment, or a failure, or a liability and my plan was to prove them all wrong. But the older I got, the more truthful it became, and the plan to prove them wrong got over-shadowed by the voice telling me to end it all instead. I'm just a big fuck-up. I've been bullied all my life, and fuck them, cause I don't need people like Cheryl Blossom or Reggie Mantle in my life, but when the people who are supposed to be there for you through everything, like Archie, or my own mother start to leave, what are you supposed to do?"

"You're not a fuck up, Jughead. I wish you could see you the way I see you." Betty pulled Jughead's hand into hers.

"How do you see me?" He asked quietly.

"I mean, you've always been the smartest person I know. And sarcastic. But you're also the strongest person I've ever met. Even when we stopped talking, the way you carried yourself in school, it seemed like you were perfectly okay being by yourself because you knew you were out of everyone else's league. And being here, now, with me? Stopping yourself from doing it? That takes courage, Jughead."

"Then you're courageous, too."

Betty shook her head slowly. "No, I'm not. Sure, I go up to the Cliffs all the time, but I'm too cowardly to go through with anything."

Jughead gripped Betty's hands tighter. "You're too smart to go through with anything. There's nothing courageous about killing yourself."

"There's nothing courageous about this, either." Betty murmured, opening her palm to remind him of her crescent-shaped scars.

Jughead rubbed his thumb over them. "We all have ways to dull our sharp edges, y'know?"

"How do you dull the pain?"

Jughead shrugged. "All different ways, I guess. Did you know I once initiated a fight with Reggie just because I wanted to feel something? I was numb. So being punched in the face was better than that. Writing helps, too. You keep a journal? I've been writing a novel."

"What?" Betty's eyes lit up, a small smile forming on her lips. "That's incredible. Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"Because if I kill myself, it's never going to get published. If I don't want a future, what's the point of taking about the possibility of one?"

Betty's eyes started to sting, tears pooling. "I'm sorry I can't change your mind, Jughead. I know we haven't been close lately, we haven't talked in years, but I-I don't want to lose you."

Jughead opened his mouth, about to say something, then changed his mind. He closed it again. "You are one of the only people to show me kindness, you know that? And I'll always be grateful."

Betty squeezed his hand. "I still have 31 hours to try and change your mind." She whispered.

"You've helped me more than you know, Betty."

Betty smiled sadly. "That's the first time you've said my name since the 7th grade."

"I just can't imagine a world where we leave this house on Sunday and go back to being friends and the rest of the world just magically melts away and the shit stops."

"The shit might not stop, Jughead, but we could deal with the shit together. I don't want it to go back to the way it was before - I just thought you wanted to be alone. And now I know differently, I -"

"It might kill me to get my hopes up, Betty."

Betty cast her eyes down at their intertwined fingers. "Tell me about your mom? And Jellybean?"

"There's not much to tell about my Mom - she tried. She kept her job at the diner for a while when Dad was working with Fred, but eventually she got fired. When I was little, she used to tell me I was "too much", whatever that meant. It's not like I was a hyper kid. When she took JB to Toldeo, it was as if the thought of bringing me along with her never occurred to her. It was just like her and Dad would split the kids down the middle - JB with her, me with Dad, that's it. JB cried the morning they left, and I promised her that I would see her soon, but I haven't seen her since that morning. That kid means more to me than anyone else."

"I'm so sorry, Jughead. I know she misses you, though. Why not go see her?"

"I called my mom a couple weeks ago, she doesn't have the room for me right now." Jughead shrugged and stood up. He trudged to the laptop and pulled up Betty's iTunes library.

"Have you ever played the Music Game?" Betty asked as she saw her music library fill the screen.

Jughead shook his head. "What's that?"

"You answer questions with songs or song lyrics. For example, my first question: What song would you describe yourself with?"

"Uh," Jughead faltered. "Creep by Radiohead. What about you?"

Betty thought for a second. "Gasoline by Halsey."

"What song would you use to describe me?" Jughead asked.

"Maybe not you, but your life: The Show Must Go On by Queen. Same question."

Jughead took a deep breath. "Not Just A Girl by She Wants Revenge."

"I've never heard of it," Betty answered sheepishly.

Jughead looked relived. "Your turn."

"What's the anthem of your life?"

"Wasn't that your first question?"

"No," Betty half-smiled. "That was a song that you would use to describe yourself. This is... this is more like a song that you feel a deep connection to, like it could've been written for you."

Jughead bit his lip for a second before answering. "Degausser by Brand New."

"Jughead," Betty murmured sadly. She knew the song well.

"Same question."

"Breathe Me by Sia, maybe."

Jughead shrugged. "I've never heard it."

"What song do you _wish_ described your life?"

"My Way by Frank Sinatra."

"How would you describe this weekend so far?"

"It's my turn to ask," Jughead smirked. "But, uh, To Be Alone by Hozier."

The heat rose to Betty's cheeks. "Really?" She whispered.

Jughead nodded.

"Jughead? Will you do something for me?"

Jughead nodded again. He padded back over to the bed and sat next to Betty.

"When fourty-eight hours are over, will you go to a therapist? Or talk to someone? I - I really want to keep getting to know you. And you deserve to see Jellybean again."

Jughead nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Really?" Tears pricked Betty's eyes.

"Yeah. But you have to, too."

Betty nodded. "Can I tell you something?"

"Always."

"I had the biggest crush on you in 7th grade."

Jughead's mouth hung open slightly. "Really?" He felt like he was gasping for air.

Betty smiled. "Yeah."

"Betty I've had a crush on you since the day we met."

She placed her hand gently against Jughead's cheek. Her eyes were searching his, trying to read him. She leaned forward until Jughead caught her lips between his.

It was soft, sweet, gentle.

They both needed more.

Betty ran her hand to the back of Jughead's neck to pull him closer. Her fingers weaved with his hair, pushing his hat off his head.

His tongue moved gently against hers, moving his mouth to trail kisses along her jawline and the delicate skin behind her ear.

Betty tilted her head back. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

Jughead grazed his hand over her neck, his thumb moving softly over Betty's soft lips. She opened her mouth to gasp as his teeth nipped at her neck, allowing his thumb to slip in between her lips. She ran her tongue over his thumb before he brought his mouth back to hers.

"Betty," he murmured into her mouth.

She broke the kiss only to place one of her legs over Jughead's, straddling his lap. She kissed him again, gently, running her hands down his back. She toyed with the hem of his shirt.

Jughead pulled away only to pull his shirt off. He peppered soft kisses against her jawline. He returned to her lips with a hunger, nibbling and sucking and needing more.

He brushed his hand against Betty's stomach, curling his hand around her waist to press her body against his.

Betty raised up on her knees to have him pull her shirt off. She sank back down, shifting slightly so she was sitting on Jughead's leg. She began to suck on Jughead's neck, eliciting a moan from his lips. She moved her hips ever so slightly against his thigh, the friction causing the heat to pool in between her thighs.

"Betty," Jughead murmured, lust filling his voice.

A whimper escaped Betty's throat in response.

He ran his hands against Betty's back, gripping her soft skin. She ground herself against Jughead's thigh once more and pulled Jughead's bottom lip between her teeth.

She placed her hands at the waistline of Jughead's pants. "Do you want to?"


	6. Chapter 6

Betty ground herself against Jughead's thigh once more and pulled Jughead's bottom lip between her teeth.

She placed her hands at the waistline of Jughead's pants. "Do you want to?"

Jughead's chest was heaving, the heat radiating through his body. Did he want to? Of course he wanted to. He'd wanted to with Betty since he was 14 years old and he saw her coming out of gym class. Of course, he didn't realize what wanting to actually was, but the thought had been in the back of his mind since.

He pulled back, his hands on her hips, resting tentatively. "I-I, of course I want to."

Betty ducked her head down, attaching her lips to his once more.

Jughead leaned back further, breaking the kiss. "...but, maybe we shouldn't."

Betty looked at him, her eyebrows furrowing. She slowly took herself off his lap, sitting down on the bed beside him.

"Betty, I know where your mind is going, believe me. Please don't let it go there. It's not like that, I 's just, a couple hours ago we didn't know the other had felt like that, and hours before that we weren't even friends. I just don't want to rush anything - what's happening between you and I, it's amazing, and I don't want to do anything either of us will regret. Okay? Is that okay?"

Betty was silent for a moment. She felt Jughead grab her hand, his thumb smoothing back and forth against her skin.

"Yeah, that's okay. Of course that's okay." She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "Thank you for being so sweet."

"I've just wanted this for so long," He whispered. "I don't want to fuck it up." He searched her eyes, needing her to understand - this meant everything to him.

He pressed his lips against her forehead - she closed her eyes, leaning into him.

After some soft, gentle kisses, they laid together in Betty's bed, fingers intertwined.

"What's your favorite show?" Betty murmured, her head on Jughead's chest.

"I'm more of a movie guy."

"Well you must watch something..."

"Faulty Towers is good."

"I've never seen it. What about Friends?"

"I've never seen it."

Betty shot straight up in bed,turning to look at Jughead. "Excuse me?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "What?"

"You've never seen Friends?! Everyone has seen Friends. Everyone."

"Not me," Jughead smirked.

"Well get fuckin' comfy because we're about to watch all ten seasons." She smirked and grabbed her remote, flicking the screen awake. She selected Netflix, then Friends. They settled in, spending their evening with a 90′s sitcom.

* * *

After several hours, including breaks for food, kisses and stretching, they made their way through the first two seasons. Jughead had to admit, he was intrigued.

Sometime after Rachel Green walked down the isle with her bridesmaids dress tucked into her underwear, Betty fell asleep. Her blonde hair was splayed out around her, The light hit her blonde waves in such a way it made her look like an angel.

Jughead smiled, scooting off the bed slowly as to not disturb her. He padded around the bed to grab her cellphone - there was something he had to do.

He dialed the number he memorized years ago, tapping his foot as the phone rang.

" _Hello?"_

"Mom. Hi."

A sigh. _"Forsythe?"_

"Yeah, hi."

" _Hi, Forsythe. Look, it's late, and I'm kind of busy, so -"_

"This will only take a second. And, it's important."

She sighed again.

"I've been having a really hard time lately, Mom. Really, really hard time. I've been thinking... I was thinking a lot about ending i-it all, but I -"

" _God, here we go. Typical Jones men," She cut him off. "Always threatening suicide and never following through - you're the boy who cried wolf, you know that? Just like your father. He threatened me with that, too, just to make me come back to him. What are you trying to do to me, Forsythe? I've already got enough to worry about with your sister and these bills that keep piling up! You want to add to that?"_

"Mom, I - " His voice broke.

" _You think you have it bad now? You're a teenager. It's only going to get tougher from here on out, so man up. You'll be fine."_

"Yeah, you're right. I'll be fine. Say hi to Jellybean for me. Tell her I love her."

" _Yeah, alright."_

"'Bye, Mom."

Tears slid down Jughead's cheeks as he ended the call and placed the cellphone back on the bedside table. He padded quietly to Betty's desk, took a piece of paper out of a notebook, and scribbled two words on it. He placed it underneath her cellphone and left the room.

Betty awakened when she heard the front door close. She blinked, expecting the see Jughead - she was alone. She looked around, trying to shake the sleepy stupor she was in.

She glanced at her bedside table, seeing the paper under her cellphone when she realized what had woken her - the front door.

She scrambled to grab the piece of paper. _**I'm Sorry**_ it read it sloppy writing.

She felt her eyes prick, tears warping her vision. Her feet were on the floor, rushing out of her bedroom before she realized what she was doing. She pushed two shoes on her feet - did they even match? were they even hers? - and rushed out the front door.

Where would he go? Betty raced down the dark streets, her feet slapping the pavement underneath her. She wanted to call out for him, scream his name, but she knew that wouldn't help. She needed to find him.

She reached the trailer park she heard Jughead's dad lived it, running toward a closed door before stopping herself - she didn't know which one was F.P.'s. She looked around and spotted a dark trailer with broken police tape around the door.

Betty trudged up the steps and tried the door - it was locked.

"Jughead?" She cried, pounding on the door. "Hello?" She cupped her eyes against the door, trying to see inside. "Fuck," She murmured to herself, biting her lip.

She turned, jogging out of the trailer park. The cliffs, she thought. She picked up speed, hoping she hadn't thought of it too late.

She was out of breath, her chest heaving by the time she was half-way up the cliffs. Rain had started to drizzle down, making her climb that much more exhausting.

Finally, she reached the top. A dark figure was sitting in the exact spot she had for months.

"Please don't," She whispered. Had he heard her? She didn't want to say anything too loud, terrified of what he might do.

"Betty," He murmured, shifting to stand. "Betty, I'm so sorry." He started to cry as he came toward her.

"Jughead?" Was all she could mutter, not understanding.

"I'm so sorry." He said again, enveloping her in his arms. "I shouldn't have come here - I, I was going to, but -" He cried harder, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck.

They cried together for a few moments, the rain pounding down on them.

"I called my Mom," He grit out. "And she - she told me I was just looking for attention and that I need to grow up."

"No," Betty cried. "Don't listen to her, Jughead."

"That's the thing," Jughead took her hand, squeezing it tightly. "The first thing my mind went to was this - fuck it, what do I have to lose? But on the walk over here, I thought of you. How beautiful you look when you're asleep. The way your nose crinkles when you laugh. That you dance around in your underwear listening to Frank Sinatra when you make pancakes." He smiled weakly. "And even if all we have are these 48 hours together, it'll have made an impact on me. You've made an impact on me, Betty."

Betty squeezed his hand. "We'll have more than 48 hours, Jughead."

"But even if, Betty, even if something changes now, you've done something inside my heart - you woke it up." He took a deep breath. "And I can't leave Jellybean, y'know? I can't fuck her up like they fucked me up. She's only 12, what would that do to her? And you know I have a novel to publish. Make my mark on the world."

Tears welled in Betty's eyes.

"We'll get through this together. I'm so sorry I left you that note."

Betty just shook her head. "We'll get through this together."

They walked up the stairs to Betty's bedroom wordlessly, closing the door behind them. Betty shrugged off her top as Jughead wrapped his arms around her, kissing her exposed skin. He peppered kisses against her shoulders and down her arms, reaching her palms. He trailed feather-light kisses over her scars.

Betty caught his cheek, reaching to place gentle kisses on his lips.

She smiled into the kiss, then pulled apart from him. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

Betty reached for Jughead's flannel, shrugging it over her shoulders.

"When do your parents get home, again?"

"A lifetime from now," She smiled.


	7. Epilogue

**Six Months Later**

* * *

After much convincing, Alice had agreed to let Betty take the car for the weekend.

Now, she was waiting outside Sweet Water Addictions and Mental Health. Jughead's session had ended five minutes ago,

Betty had already stopped at the gas station, getting all of her Road Trip Must Haves, filled the tank, and made sure the GPS was set.

"Hey," Jughead greeted her as he opened the passenger-side door. He leaned in to kiss her.

"Hi," She smiled. "How was your session?"

"Good, really helpful." Jughead nodded. "I told him how nervous I was for the weekend."

Betty started the car and moved toward the exit of the parking lot. They had a roughly-four-hour drive before them.

Betty had called Gladys a few months ago and talked to her for hours - once she got through Gladys' stubbornness, they'd had a wonderful conversation. She hadn't meant to be cruel to Jughead; F.P. put her through so much emotional abuse and manipulation, she didn't know what to do or believe. She was up to her neck in debt from trying to start fresh with Jellybean and her most-recent ex-boyfriend hadn't helped her situation.

"Be Kind, For Everyone You Meet Is Fighting A Hard Battle" was Betty's new mantra. Once she got through to Gladys, she had agreed to see Betty and Jughead for the weekend.

Betty explained everything to him and he was thrilled to be able to finally see his little sister.

They still both had good days and bad, but the bad days were getting better.

"Whens your next session with Dr. Salinger?" Jughead asked as he opened his coke.

"The day after we get back." Betty smiled.

She too had been in therapy since her parents got home that weekend all those months ago. She hated the first person she had been referred to - they made her feel stupid, like she shouldn't be there. She kept at it until she found the right fit. "What do you think Jellybean is going to do when she sees you? I can't wait to surprise her."

Jughead smiled and shook his head. "I don't know, but I can't wait." He reached to squeeze Betty's hand. "Oh, and Bets?"

"Yeah?" She smiled.

"Thank you."

* * *

 _The End_

* * *

 _I want to thank the BSC's for always giving me support and a special Thank You to bugheadotp for listening to me, supporting me and helping me when I need it. Love you._

 _This is the first non-one shot I've ever completed. If you've taken time to read this, thank you. If you've taken time to review this, REALLY thank you, because you made me want to write._

 _Thanks again. Much love x_


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